


Sparks

by WasteTimeandType



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Family Feels, Gen, Gen Fic, Mako's POV, Trauma, Two Shot, UGH YEAH ARE YOU READY FOR PLATONIC FAMILY DRAMA?, copious amounts of headcanon, mako and bolin's childhoods, mako has some issues, mention of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WasteTimeandType/pseuds/WasteTimeandType
Summary: Mako and Bolin travel to the Fire Nation, with little information, to try and find out what happened to their mother, Naoki.It's not easy, and although Mako tries, it's hard to not bring up the past, and the painful memories that come with it.
Relationships: Bolin & Mako (Avatar)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109
Collections: Mako + Bolin Gen and Family Fic





	1. Chapter 1

Republic City Police Headquarters was remarkably quiet; crime had dropped to a remarkable low. It meant Mako could concentrate on matters outside work.

It was an hour after his shift had ended, and he had invited Bolin into one of the empty meeting rooms. Mako dropped the file onto the wooden table in front of his brother. It landed with a small flop, not causing much of an impact.

“...that’s a small case file” Bolin commented, staring at it like he hoped it might triple in size through sheer will-power. Mako nodded in agreement.

_OVERVIEW: 10/08/160AG. San, earthbender, 34, and wife Naoki, non-bender, 32, were killed by firebender, unknown. They were incapacitated by a firebending blast, robbed of jewellery, watch and wallet, and then stabbed with a fire-bent dagger. The victims behind two sons, Mako, firebender, 8, and Bolin, earthbender, 6, who have been take into Republic City care._

_WITNESSES: Mako (son of deceased as above), 8: described the firebender as tall, ‘not too old’, (middle-aged). NOTE. It was dusk at the time of murder. Physical descriptions are vague._

_VICTIM PROFILES:_

_San, NFN, earthbender, 34, worked in construction. Believed to have immigrated from the Earth Kingdom, Ba Sing Se, according to neighbour MEI, non-bender, 82, and Employer WAYLING, 39, non-bender. No other family address, names or personal documents found in the police investigation._

_Naoki NFN, firebender, 32, worked as a chef and market stall vendor. Believed to have immigrated from Fire Nation, location unknown, according to MEI (as above). No other family address, names or personal documents found in the police investigation._

_No family addresses, names or personal documents found in the police investigation for either victim._

_NO FURTHER WITNESSES._

_NO LEADS._

_UPDATE: NO FURTHER WITNESSES OR INFORMATION. COLD CASE._

_CASE CLOSED: SUMMER 161 AG._

That was it. Everything regarding their parents deaths were contained on just two sheets of paper. Incomplete and brief, just like how long Mako had to know his parents. 

Bolin pouted. “It’s not sure what I was expecting,” Bolin said, as he looked at the file. “Perhaps more?”

Mako nodded. “Yeah, it’s… brief…” he trailed off, though he wasn’t sure why Bolin had got his hopes up. He had told Bolin the size of the file. Mako had seen the case file as soon as he had started his career as a cop. He’d taken the case file out, read it, and had kept it on his person for a week before he quietly put it back into storage with the dozens of other cold-cases. During that week, Mako had looked for Mei, the neighbour, but she had long since passed. Wayling had given the same information that he had given the police years earlier. There was nothing he could do to resolve the case with no leads: Mako was the sole witness all those years ago.

Although the nightmares of his parents’ death used to keep him up at night, the memory itself now faded and fuzzy, worn from years of survival on the streets.

It had upset Bolin when he informed him that he’d looked into his parent’s deaths and hadn’t told him then. Mako responded that it was disheartening and he felt no need to drag Bolin into this.

 _You always do this_ , Bolin had said, _lock me out of the loop. I should have been told._

Bolin had then asked if he had told Korra, and it had taken Mako a little too long to realise that Bolin was asking because they were dating when he first became a cop. He hadn’t told her. He remembered Korra asking why he was in such an off mood that week, and he’d brushed her off. All it resulted in was Korra getting mad at him and they argued until they apologised after a few frosty days of not speaking to each other.

Upon reflection, the situation was badly handled. But it was how they were; an exasperating cycle of anger and frustration followed by empty promises and repressing emotions when making up. They never really understood one another, at least not when they were a couple.

Mako knew what went wrong now, but it didn’t change the past.

Bolin hadn’t been happy, but maybe he understood now that he looked at the file; the small, borderline empty file. 

They weren’t looking to solve the case, though Mako knew that Bolin had holding out hope when he opened the file; in the end who wouldn’t. There were no leads and it had been a cold case for fifteen years now, and unless someone literally walked up to the police station and turned themselves in, it would never be solved.

In some of his darker moments, he wondered why his parents were killed. Was it truly random? Or was it targeted? Mako didn’t really know either of his parents, not really. They were poor. Maybe they got themselves involved in something they shouldn’t have been involved in.

Instead of dwelling on questions that were impossible to be answered, they were trying to collect as much information on their mother, Naoki, and find out if she had any family living in the Fire Nation.

They had resolved to do this nearly a year after the battle with Kuvira. All had been going pretty well, life had calmed down since Kuvira’s assault on Republic City, when Bolin asked if he ever thought about their mother. Of course he did.

“We don’t know her birthplace, so tracking any family down will be hard.” Mako had said. “The Fire Nation is a big place.”

Bolin nodded. “But we have to try, don’t we? Dad’s side of the family never knew. They could be just waiting at home, hoping their daughter will come home someday.”

Mako didn’t disagree with Bolin and wondered if he sounded too defeatist. “I want to try too, Bolin,” He said, hoping that the true meaning of his intention was coming through when he initially expressed his doubts.

They just couldn’t get their hopes up with such little information.

They rung their grandmother, now living in Ba Sing Se again, and were much happier because of it. Their family had loved the Sato Estate, but she always stuck to the idea of ‘dying in her home city’—- the phrasing of which had made Mako wince at its frankness. Wu had seen to getting their family a house in the former middle ring, so it was far more spacious than their previous dwelling in Ba Sing Se, and whilst it was a step down from Asami’s it was somewhere they could actually call their own.

“We lost the letter when Ba Sing Se burnt down,” his grandmother had said, “but I remember the letter, I read it dozens of times a year since I received it. San didn’t write where she was from, she was just ‘fire nation’. I’m sorry. I am very much interested in meeting the in-laws, I hope you find them.” 

When they had applied to become pro-benders, they had to take out their birth certificates and create official documentation for themselves. Neither San nor Naoki had official entry documents into Republic City, or at least none that existed at the time of the murder anyway, and so the only official record that the pair lived in Republic City was their marriage certificate, general tax recording of their names and the names of the parents alongside Mako and Bolin’s birth certificates.

And that was the only official documents they had to say that their parents had ever resided in the city. A part of Mako would hesitate to guess the police didn’t try hard enough to find any other records, as overstretched as they were. Any of their belongings were sold to pay off any debts whilst Mako and Bolin were put into state care; even if they only lasted less than a week at the orphanage.

They didn’t have much to go on, and their parents’ whole lives were reduced to single lines of text in a letter and long forgotten certificates and case files. All they had was an old family photograph and little information about their mother.

It wasn’t much to trace a person, but they did know the Fire Nation had records. Birth records, marriage records and death records. They were the most efficient of all the nations at recording births, deaths and marriages since the One Hundred Year War required efficient population planning.

So they had looked for months, compiling the slimmest amount of information they could.

He hadn’t known his mother long. He remembered that his dad was from Ba Sing Se— he always said he’d take them there, an adventure. Mako realised now they didn’t have as much money as they would like, so that trip was never going to happen with their parents at that age. But the intention was there. And he couldn’t remember his Mom ever saying anything about where she came from.

He feared that he simply forgot about his mother; any memories faded through years of separation. That felt like a betrayal when he could at least remember his Dad’s birthplace but not this basic fact about his Mom.

But he never really knew her long. Even though he didn’t want to get his hopes up, hopefully this trip would give him some closure.

* * *

Luckily, Mako was able to sort his affairs out fairly quickly. Lin gave him the time off, and he tried to thank her, but she only glared at him that he’d have to take overtime. Soon Mako had packed (fairly light as he knew they might be moving around a lot), gotten his finances in order and finished the stack of paperwork he had.

It’s a sunny day when Mako is by the docks with Korra, Asami and Opal there to wave them goodbye. Korra handed him a letter with a seal. “It’s a signed letter by yours truly, the Avatar,” she said, “use it and it should get you clearance or out of any sticky situations. Though you guys _better_ not drag my name through the mud, I need my reputation,” she said, her voice remaining light and joking.

“I’m sure you damage your reputation enough yourself” he joked. Korra responded with a swift, light punch, which Mako gingerly rubbed, a smirk playing on her face. “Ow. But really, thanks Korra,” Mako said, “But I’m not sure what you think we’re going to get in.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to get into trouble. Or at least Bolin will. Hey, I’m sorry I can’t come with you,” Korra said, “with the state of Xing needing to hold elections for the third time…”

“Korra, it’s fine,” Mako said. He thinks it’s nice that she, Asami and Opal all wanted to support them by expressing a desire to come with them, but Avatar, CEO and Air Nation duties stopped them. “This might best be something me and Bolin experience together alone.”

Korra nodded, “I get that. Write and send a telegram if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Korra.” He said, and Korra pulled him into a brief hug.

He waved goodbye to Korra and Asami with him. Bolin had been chatting enthusiastically with Opal, who was staying for her duties with the Air Nation.

“I’ll write and call you when I can, Opal!”

“I’m sure you will Bolin,” Opal said.

The boat horn sounded, and Mako walked by to grab Bolin by the collar and drag him to the jetty to board the boat.

“Opal! I miss you already!” Bolin said as he boarded the boat.

Opal kissed her hand and waved to him goodbye. Mako fights the urge to roll his eyes, since he did like Opal and Bolin together.

He breathed deeply as they left home. It was strange. The trip had existed as a plan for so long, so it was surreal to even go.

As the docks of Republic City grew smaller, Mako wondered what the Fire Nation had in store for them.

* * *

The trip by boat would take three days. Mako already disliked the sea and had to fight to keep the nausea down. This was made more difficult by the spicy food the ferry was serving; his stomach constantly churning. He probably just wouldn’t eat until they arrived at the Fire Nation.

In contrast, Bolin loved travelling, and continued to pull Mako to the top deck and show them the sight of the large expansive ocean and the fire nation Islands they were passing.

“Looks great, I’m going back to our bunk,” he said, as he glanced at the large expanse of water.

“Makoooo! Shouldn’t you be more excited. You’re a firebender, we’re going to the _Fire Nation_.

“Yeah, yeah, and we’re not even there yet, and right now we’re still surrounded by the ocean which looks the same as any other ocean,” He muttered.

“Get your sea legs in gear, Mako,” Bolin laughed, then seemed to grin even further, “Hey, Mako, you never know, you might meet a pretty Fire Nation girl.”

“Bolin—” he protested. He wasn’t much interested in his love life (or lack thereof as Bolin liked to remind him) on this trip and he didn’t want Bolin to do any wing-manning on his behalf at all. He was already tired of it in Republic City, he didn’t want it to occur whilst they were in the Fire Nation.

“Now, don’t worry, if you do, just say the word and I’ll give you some alone time,” Bolin nudged and winked at him.

Mako scowled, and Bolin laughed in response. “You’re too easy to wind up. And _you never know_ —“

“—Bolin,” he repeated, willing his brother to stop, and Bolin said no more but he still grinned.

Mako rolled his eyes, and Bolin took that as a sign he succeeded.

* * *

When they finally reached land, Mako was incredibly relieved. 

The fire nation looked different to anything he had seen before. There was a lot of black volcanic rock, and the harbour itself is vast, with many areas for ships to dock, with a steady built-up shops gathered away from the harbour.

“Harbour City is over there,” a gruff man who worked at the port responded when they inquired, “but if you want Caldera City, you should get a bus.”

“Thanks. Should we check Harbour City first?” Bolin asked Mako as they walked away.

Mako paused. “I guess so.”

Harbour City, the lowest part of the Fire Nation capital, was bustling as always. As they walk into the city, pavement replacing wooden boards, they take in the sights as much as they can. The harbour is full of water tribe merchants selling their wares and their fish, mainly to the various shipping dock workers, and Mako can smell the powerful scent of pickled goods.

“Wow, we land in the Fire Nation and it feels like we’re in the Southern Water Tribe for the Glacier Spirits Festival. How long ago was that?” Bolin counted on his fingers. “Around four years ago! Four years since Harmonic Convergence, wow, life goes super fast…”

Four years ago was an different time for Mako. It was strange to think how much had time. At least life wasn’t as hectic as all those years ago, and they’d settled into a rhythm with Korra back in the picture and work settling down (thankfully, work involved no princes). He could see what Bolin was saying about the smell of fish and movement of blue, it felt Southern. “Well, I suppose this is a harbour, and the Water Tribe goes where the water flows…”

“That’s almost poetic, bro,” Bolin joked, before ducking his head under the hanging fish in town.

“Thanks. I’m working on becoming a poet,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, we all know your career as a detective isn’t working out.”

“Is that so, Bo?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, you’re really quite average.”

Mako pulls him into a headlock and then messed up his hair. “So you say, and _how_ many jobs have you had?”

“Hey, I’m not ten anymore!” Bolin protested, pouting as he pulled away.

“You sure?” He responded before he let Bolin go. Bolin huffed and reorganised his hair into an acceptable shape.

Bolin huffed. “And anyway, you know me, Mako. I can’t be tied down to one job.”

Mako rolled his eyes yes as Bolin decided to go on a tale about how his spirit is like the airbenders, when he knows Bolin is just indecisive. They finally stop once they reach a small, shabby building that reads Harbour Hotel. “Should we try to get a room here?” Mako asked.

“Sure, I guess. I’m tired after all that travelling.” Bolin responded. 

They booked into the small motel, before quickly leaving to get food. Water Tribe noodles it was— Mako couldn’t disagree with crying foul about eating Water Tribe noodles their first day in the fire nation, but they were nearby and very quickly satisfying.

They sat on one of the many boardwalks on a bench, overlooking the sea, and it made Mako realise that they haven’t spent much time together alone recently; not much more than the occasional late night dinner after work. 

In fact, they’d never taken a break together, alone. They’d lived together for so long and they had never travelled outside Republic City apart from travelling with the Avatar as they previously had nothing. Apart from their unwilling detour in Ba Sing Se which led to reuniting with their family, Mako was hard pressed to think of a moment he and his brother were together, and not surviving or having an adventure with Korra.

Not that trying to find their mother was a true vacation, but it was oddly the least amount of drama the two had faced together for a long time.

“I can’t believe we’re here, in the Fire Nation,” Bolin said,turning off the gas lamp off in their motel room, as they settled down for the night. “I’ve got chills.”

Mako paused as he contemplated his reaction; there were no ‘chills’, as Bolin put it. He expected to feel more when he arrived in the Fire Nation, the birthplace of his mother, the origin of the element he bends, but he felt little, as if he was detached.

“Get some rest, we have a busy time ahead of us,” he said, and rolled over in his bed to try to get some sleep for the day ahead.

* * *

Harbour City Police Station is fairly small, with various firebenders’ dressed in red, tight fitting police uniforms, not dissimilar to RCPD wear but the gold fringes and cuffs. They looked far more imposing and impressive, at least in Mako’s eye. They’d handed in their letter of recommendation from Lin, who’d sent someone to look through the records. They waited in the room beside her. “No, no Naoki’s fitting your descriptions of age have ever been reported missing. Not in Harbour City.”

“Would there be any information on people who emigrate?”

She paused. “I doubt it. Anyone can buy a ferry ticket. I don’t think you would be able to search her financial records unless you know an address.”

Mako nodded. “Would the local hospital have any information on birth certificates and records?”

The man shook his head. “No, the birth certificates are all sent to Caldera City to be archived. You searching for the family?” she asks, eyebrow raised. They nod, and the police officer sighs. “Naoki is a fairly common name. Do you know where she was born in the capital?”

“We… don’t actually know if she was born in the capital. Or where she was born in the country.”

She stared at them, face unchanged, but her wide eyes gave away to Mako that she was startled. “ _Good luck_.”

Mako was starting to realise he might need that.

* * *

The bus to Caldera City was crowded, and full of people who had gotten off the boat from Republic City and were travelling back home or for business.

“How long is this journey?” Bolin asked, pressed against the bus window, as Mako was squeezed in just behind him.

“Forty minutes.” one of the other passengers responded to Bolin.

“Great. This is ideal.” Mako muttered.

It was strange, going up a volcano, and it was strange looking back down the harbour. Caldera city was just over the peak, and though cities were familiar wherever you went, this was still different to Ba Sing Se and Republic City. The land was certainly different to anything in at home, with the black rock and the grassy plains instead of forests. The air was warmer, the topography was hillier. 

Eventually, the hairpin ascent up the mountain flattens out and they see the new ridge of the mountain, and the stretching City down below, with the Fire Nation palace in the centre.

“Caldera city outskirts here, central stops will be five minutes in between.”

“Shall we walk into the centre?”

Bolin nodded, and they set off into the centre, bags in tow and their spirits hopeful.

Caldera City is a far more traditionally Fire Nation part of the capital than the Harbour was. The houses sloped inwards like the 

“I will literally eat anything- I hope you’re in the mood for meat, Mako, because that’s what the streets smell of.”

“I know what Fire Nation food is, Bolin.” On the street they weren’t picky with their scraps- Earth, Water, Fire, they’d consume whatever was available, as long as it was edible. His judgement on edibility was a learning experience, he remembered being so sick once that Bolin had started crying—- he had made sure to be more cautious after that. 

They check into another motel, if only for the reason that they need somewhere to put their bags before they travel to capital City archives.

It’s a plain, empty building that’s both imposing and incredibly boring. Mako is sure their ventures into this building will be nothing but entertaining, clearly.

“We want to see if a woman named Naoki was born in Republic City,” Mako said to the male clerk behind the desk.

“I.D?” The man said gruffly.

Mako and Bolin fish out their passports before they’re immediately handed back. “You’re not Fire Nation citizens.”

Mako crossed his arms. “Foreign visitors surely must be able to look at the records somehow.”

“Foreign visitors can use the archives if they fill out this form.” The clerk said and pushed a yellow form toward them.

Mako and Bolin collectively groaned. But they did fill out the form- their names, dates of birth, passport numbers, what their purpose for the archives are, how long they need the archives for. It took them fifteen minutes, but they eventually pushed back the yellow form.

The clerk took it and placed it on the side with a couple of extra forms. “It will be processed. Average waiting time will be a week.”

“A week!? What if we don’t have a week!?” Bolin protested. Mako agreed, they can’t waste time in Caldera City for a whole week, or they’d have to look at other towns but then likely backtrack to the archives.

“It’s just the way it is, you should’ve filled in the form earlier.”

“We were in Republic City earlier!” Mako protested.

“Should’ve called ahead. We have to check everything through.” The clerk said, his face completely apathetic.

Bolin meant forward onto the clerk’s desk. “Hey, Sir, look, I was once a police officer, and my brother still is, so I understand the soul-crushing tedium that is paperwork, so we understand, on a spiritual level, your pain here. So if you could just speed it up, paperwork brother to paperwork brother?” Bolin said, and the clerk just glared at them, thoroughly unamused. Bolin had that similarly defeated look. Bolin knew how to talk his way out of situations, sometimes. Bolin’s charm was not working here.

“Here’s clearance from Lin Beifong, Chief of Republic City police,” Mako said, sliding the official letter towards them.

The clerk shrugged with a quick glance over the form. “The Republic City Police have no jurisdiction here.” Well, the Capital City police were far more willing to help out their fellow cops than the archives staff.

Mako inwardly sighed. He didn’t want to pull the ‘we’re friends with the Avatar card’ at all, let alone this early on, but they were already getting nowhere. “This is a signed letter from Avatar Korra. This is important business.”

The clerk finally lets out some emotion; an eyebrow raised in interest. He read the signed letter in a patient silence. “Whilst it’s certainly compelling, the Avatar has no jurisdiction--”

Mako nearly pulled his hair out. “Can you please just check with someone!” He snapped.

Bolin leant over the desk again. “Do you really want to be personally responsible for not letting the Avatar’s friends into the Fire Nation archives? Imagine if Korra found out, imagine the headlines, and her wrath. And we only want to find information on our poor mother, who was tragically taken away from us at a young age. But alas, we were stopped by a receptionist—”

“Enough,” The clerk said, raising his hand as he bit his lip, before pulling out a small radio and began to speak to someone of a higher position than he, presumably.

Well, Mako was glad Bolin had learnt how to play dirty.

After five minutes, a bearded man comes down and lets them into the archives after looking at the letter, however not before he read over the form they had filled in.

“Everything seems to be in order,” The official said, offering a short bow and handing them back their documents.

They finally had access to the archives. It almost felt like a chore and a hard won victory, but the real struggle had only just begun. Mako was going to have to use all of his learned detective skills to help discover any information that would lead them to his mother.

“Ground floor is birth records, first floor is death, top for marriage.”

Mako and Bolin thanked the manager and got to work.

“Wow,” they said simultaneously. Where do they start? 

“We start with the births, I suppose.”

* * *

There were many, many files.

“There’s so many Naoki’s born around 128AG.”

They were there. Searching, searching the many files across the nation and the people who live there.

“How will we ever know?”

“We won’t.” Mako said, feeling somewhat defeatist. “We can compare the birth records to anyone who’s been married or dead, but how long will that take? We’ll only know if we check every single Naoki in person.”

“Uh—”

“There’s hundreds.” Mako sighed, flipping shut a small booklet on records. “I don’t know why we thought this would be easy.” Mako said, pulling his fingers through his hair.

“Did we ever?” Bolin asked.

Mako shrugged, silently agreeing with his brother. “It’s getting late.”

Mako and Bolin left the records feeling downcast, but as they reached the reception, they stopped as they saw four smartly dressed men and women standing before them.

One man bowed in the traditional firebending salute- and Mako wondered if they were supposed to bow back and he now felt foolish for not looking into this beforehand- but the man stood straight and continued, anyway. “Firelord Izumi has heard the Avatar’s friends, Mako and Bolin, are here and would like to invite you to dine with herself tonight.”

“Tonight?” Bolin echoed. He also didn’t look enthusiastic, which was odd for Bolin since he took on most opportunities with glee, but his face was downcast and as cheery as Mako.

Mako was drained, and had no real desire to dine and sit and be formal with a woman he hadn’t even met. All Mako wanted to do currently was sleep and hope that everything looked better tomorrow.

The man who spoke coughed slightly, as if noticing their reluctance. “May I remind you that this is an invitation from the Royal Family of the Fire Nation?”

Well, when it was presented like that, the invitation was now far more persuasive.

Bolin at least tried to perk up slightly to lighten the mood as they were led to the Royal Palace by private car. At least his brother was excellent at making small talk, a skill which Mako had always found lacking within himself, and started talking to the party of messengers that Izumi (Mako assumed) sent.

Upon arrival, Mako and Bolin were dressed in far more formal clothes than the brown and grey clothes they had previously been wearing, and were now dressed in reds and golds robes. It reminded Mako of the first date he had with Asami, all those years ago when he was dressed up to acceptability. He still had that suit, and he wondered if he was going to be able to keep these robes.

One of the helpers, who had introduced himself as Lizan, spoke to them before they entered the room, “you will be dining with the Firelord tonight.” Lizan began.

“Is Lord Zuko here?” Bolin asked, clasping his hands together.

“No, he’s indisposed with peacekeeping duties in the Earth Republics. It is just the Fire Lord, the rest of her family are busy with other engagements,” and Mako could see that Bolin was disappointed, but the conversation continued as they walked towards the dining hall, “bow with your eyes to the floor, have your hands placed like this,” Lizan said, with his closed fist below his palm, “then you may address the Fire Lord as Fire Lord, your excellency or majesty.

“Right on,” Bolin said, dazed. 

They entered the room, where a grand table had been laid out. It reminded Mako slightly of the Beifong residence in Zaofu, where people ate situated around a large table. Mako didn’t understand the appeal, he couldn’t catch what was being discussed on the opposite side of the table.

They viewed, greeted the Firelord and her daughter in the correct manner and sat down at the table.

Firelord Izumi wasn’t someone who Mako knew well. He’d only observed her with Wu. She eyed them both. “Greetings, Mako and Bolin. I hear you’re in the Fire Nation on personal business?”

“Yes. Well, our mother was originally from the Fire Nation.”

“Ah, I see. As I understand, she’s not around anymore?”

“No, our parents were killed when we were little.” Mako said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Izumi said, and looked to them both. “So, you grew up in an orphanage?”

Mako froze slightly and Bolin coughed, willing to speak up. “No, uh, we grew up on the streets, Izumi. I mean ma’am. I mean Your Majesty.”

The silence was slightly uncomfortable, as they drank some soup, and it was spicy and it made Mako’s eyes water.

“Really? Was there a reason not to choose the orphanage, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Mako didn’t reply, and held his tongue, that yes, he did mind telling Izumi his entire life story, but he held his tongue and played more with the soup. Bolin looked across at him, and Mako caught his eye briefly. Bolin only shrugged and decided to continue; “Well orphanages are overcrowded and dirty and boss you about and stuff. Plus they often split up mixed bending families. Easier to adopt kids, separately,” he said. Mako remembered those few days they’d actually spent in an orphanage before fleeing. He remembered turning back to the orphanage, and vowing that he and Bolin would never go back.

Sometimes on the streets, when the winters were cold and the food was scare, he wondered if he did the right thing when they left the orphange.

Izumi narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have to look into that. The Royal Family are patrons of social projects in Republic City, including orphanages. There are certain standards that we expect them to operate under, and they're not meant to separate siblings.”

“Surprisingly easy to get away with,” Mako muttered under his breath. Izumi appeared to hear him, and there was a silence that followed.

“So, the soup is good,” Bolin said cheerily.

“I’m glad you like it, Bolin,” Izumi said. 

“Yeah, it’s really good! This reminds me of the soup you get at YiYi’s street vendor, that was really tasty.”

Mako internally winced. YiYi’s was a couple-of-Yuan cheap fast-food joint that served them well during their pro-bending days. It was good for the price; but the ingredients alone for the meal they were eating now probably cost more than the soup from YiYi’s cost altogether.

However, Izumi didn’t seem to mind the comparison, and let Bolin chatter away about their top three-meals from their pro-bending days. Bolin had won over her with his easy charm, again. The good thing about Bolin is that he lacked shame, it seemed, and no social awareness only found himself good fortune in that he was open about everything. He’d always been like that, and Mako didn’t know how he maintained it.

And as soon as that course was finished, he was slightly glad.

Izumi placed her hands together. “I invited you both here tonight to personally thank you for your actions in the United Republic. As I understand, you were both involved directly in taking down the colossus itself. The United Republic is very important to my father and I, and we were pleased to have the situation solved so well. I appreciate both of your bravery,” Izumi stated.

Mako smiled a little, surprisingly at a loss of words. “Well, it’s—I appreciate your thanks.” There was a lot he was thinking otherwise. Mako wondered if, Izumi ‘cared’ so much about the United Republic as she said she did, then why she held back on attacking the Earth Empire before they even reached Republic City— but then again Mako was never one for politics, or at least the finer workings and details and the game of it all. Mako was never much for dealing with royalty either; Wu still confused him to a degree. But he knew when to keep his mouth such and accept the compliment.

“Thank, your majesty. It really means a lot.” Bolin said. “Mako here is the real hero, he took down the colossus,” he said, and Mako both internally winced at his brothers over enthused words but also basked with a little slither of pride. Mako was many things, but he knew he could be proud when he needed it.

The main course was served, and it was some fish Mako had never heard of and didn’t care enough to remember, but he enjoyed it just the same. 

They continue their talk and all that, with much work and discussions. Fai, the daughter, started to talk about her study in Republic City with some enthusiasm, and Mako tried to keep up but he was still rather drained from earlier and polite chit-chat was not what he was in the mood for today.

After they finished desert, Bolin managed to get on the topic of lavabending, which intrigued Izumi, and they moved outside for a demonstration. After Mako had to hiss to Bolin that yes, Izumi was interested, no, she probably didn’t want a demonstration right there in the dining hall of the palace, destroying the wooden floors.

After destroying a part of Izumi’s garden, (Izumi insisted that she was going to remodel anyway), Izumi gestured them towards a bench. “Now, I understand that you’re looking for information about your mother, currently?”

“Uh, well-“ Mako said. It was strange for the FIre Lord to nose in on their business, but then again, of course she knew why they were at the archives. She was the Fire Lord.

“I’ll assign two civil servants to help you. They should help eliminate queries and allow your investigation to go faster,” Izumi said, and Mako and Bolin looked to each other, then she beckoned over a servant who was taking notes and she then corrected, “make that four.”

Mako stepped forward, “it’s very kind of you, your majesty, but we—“

“—It’s of no worry to me. Friends of the Avatar are friends of mine.”

Bolin looked at them both cheerily. “Well, I think that sounds good, don’t you, Mako?”

Mako reluctantly nodded. “Yes, thank you, Firelord Izumi.”

She smiled and curtly nodded.

A part of Mako was reluctant to accept the offer. He wanted to do this on his own with Bolin and not have outside interference. However, after the disastrous day they had, he knows he should be over the moon. They should have been happy.

They leave the palace and trudge back to the hotel they’d rented. Izumi has offered them the palace rooms, but they both politely tried to insist their current lodgings were fine and they’d already settled in. Luxury was appealing, but Mako had felt drained enough from tonight he found the idea of the royal family watching his back all night incredibly unpleasant.

“So, Mako, we can’t have a normal day, huh,” Bolin said, smiling, “dined by the royal family, how cool is that!? I can’t wait to write to Opal,” Bolin said cheerily.

It made Mako smile slightly. Bolin eyed him. “Not going to continue to be a grump, are you?” He asked.

Mako crossed his arms and looked away. Bolin just reached around and hugged Mako anyway, “you big stiff, come here,” Bolin said.

It’s hard to not loosen up with Bolin around.

* * *

It’s hard to deny that with the Civil Servants, the investigation moved far quicker.

What could have been weeks of research, only took three days.

There was an efficiency to how they worked: they sat in a line and checked through the various birth certificates and went that way as they checked the various Naoki’s who lived in the Fire Nation.

Check, check, check. 

Many Naoki’s were too old or too young, and many Naoki’s of the right age had registered marriages in the Fire Nation. They’d cross referenced a few Naoki’s with the death records, but most Naoki’s from around 128AG were still alive. There was no central record of missing persons reports, due to their often open ended nature, so they'd have to check in with local police stations. In the mean time, the civil servants had confirmed there was no missing person cases of Naoki in the capital matching their birth year.

They had decided to include any Naoki with a family name, since she could have purposefully left the name behind and had signed their birth certificates just as Naoki for a reason. A part of Mako wondered if she had left the Fire Nation for a reason, if she hadn’t wanted to be found by anyone—what if she was a bigamist and they found out she abandoned a family, should they include marriages? What if she faked her death and ran away to the United Republic

What if Naoki wasn’t her real name at all?

Mako tried to get these ridiculous doubts out of his head. He couldn’t start imagining he knew about his mother be a lie, because then what did Mako really have of her left?

Mako wondered if this was all worth it; the fear that they could find something from the past that they didn’t like. Maybe they shouldn’t be trying to uncover their mother’s former life, and they should let the past be.

But Mako also knew he couldn’t go through the rest of his life always wondering, always curious.

So they had a list of names.

Fifty six names who were born in the right year and didn’t seem to have any early deaths registered in the Fire Nation, and they had enough of a lead to go on.

Luckily, Twenty of the Naoki’s were in the capital itself.

“Is… there the family of a Naoki here?”

The man stood there. This wasn’t the first Naoki on the list, it was already their sixth today. They were finding it surprisingly easy to eliminate Naoki’s, though they had a few where they would have to visit later. “...yes, I’m her partner, can I help you?”

“Oh, we’re looking for the family of a Naoki who emigrated to Republic City.” Bolin said, but they both knew that she was not the one.

“Oh…. well not that one, so good luck.” He said. He wished them the best of luck as they went on their way.

Mako flopped open a little notebook with the basic details of the many Naoki’s scribbled down and scratched it off the list with a pencil.

Bolin rapped his chin thoughtfully as they walked through the crowd. “So,” he said to Mako, “we got many Naoki’s left in the Capital?”

“A couple,” he said, glancing at the notebook. Today hadn’t been as successful as they wanted, and they realised that one of the many Naoki’s had moved. Still, they had to keep trying.

Bolin stopped and stared at the tourist sign on the street corner. “Hey, wanna see the air nomad memorial?”

Mako Nodded. “Sure,” he said, thinking briefly of Tenzin and the other airbenders, and they moved off in the direction

The memorial was a decorative park, fixed on the far side of the capital. There were rows of trees lined up through the park, with wind chimes hanging down with a few benches dotted around. It was mostly empty, only a few other individuals were milling about, contemplating the memorial.

It was very quiet apart from the sounds of rustling leaves and chimes through the gentle breeze rustling through the trees. It was less showy that Mako assumes it would be; more abstract, but he supposed it succeeded in creating an oddly peaceful atmosphere to contemplate the past. 

He lost Bolin as they wandered, and he found a small plaque situated on one of the walls that the park had been opened by Zuko and Aang over forty years ago now.

He breathed deeply. He could understand now Izumi’s hesitance in war, it was clear that there was a large fog hanging over the nation’s psych; quietly hanging in the background.

The wind chimes sounded, quiet in the air. He looked at his own hands, one scarred, and considered the fire he could create himself.

His mind reeled back to an alleyway, he was young, there was a fire dagger present, a flash of amber eyes encroached in darkness, _there was a short scream—_

Mako stood up sharply, trying to fight the queasiness down, and he fought to kept his breath under control, as he flexed his hands. He quickly left the memorial. He wasn’t sure why the memorial was having such an effect on him. It was probably the damn chimes, ringing over him, and getting into his head. He supposed the memorial was effective in that way, it lingered with you, the peaceful tranquillity with the ever present sound of the airbenders chimes. Reminding you always of what was lost.

He found Bolin quietly sitting by the side of the entrance on a bench.

“You good, Bo?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Bolin said, and he had one of those faces

They quietly began to walk away and Bolin looked at Mako. 

“It was sad, but good,” Bolin said. “It’s weird to think that Aang never saw the new Air Nation.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, and looked back to the memorial. 

“It’s weird to think we were a part of it.”

Mako didn’t say anything, all he could think of was how Korra almost died during their search for the Air Nation. He supposed that wasn’t the whole story. The Air Nation was now prospering, and he was a part of that story. He glanced at his hands again, contemplating them and the fire they created.

Mako had found himself wrapped up in so many things greater than his world had been. Before it was limited to Bolin. But now it was far, far bigger than them.

Bolin pouted, and Mako wondered what his brother was thinking. “Let me go get some food!” 

And just like that, the moment was gone as Bolin darted away. His stomach growled, and he could feel the weight of the list of names and addresses that he held in his pocket. They had work to do, and the task of crossing Naoki’s off of lists was getting heavier by the second. However it was clear to Mako that the impossible task was impossible, and it didn’t seem that they had the fortune like they had in Ba Sing Se.

He caught up with Bolin, who was off to the side of a vendor stall, close to their age, smiling as Bolin was enthusiastically talking to them.

Bolin patted Mako as he approached on the back and then turned back the girls; “so this is Mako my brother I was telling you about, and Mako this is… uh… what were your names again?”

Mako realised what Bolin was trying to do, so he grabbed Bolin by the collar and pulled him away and down the street. “What is wrong with you!?” Mako hissed under his breath as he gathered some distance from the two girls. 

“Hey, I just want you to meet new people! And that was very rude, Mako, after I went to all the effort of introducing you to some lovely ladies!”

“Yes, they clearly made such an impression on you that you immediately forgot their names.” Mako grumbled.

He ignored Bolin’s protests until they turned round a corner. He let go of Bolin’s scruff, who only huffed, and straightened his collar back out. “Well, one day Mako, you’ll come to me willingly, and ask for my help.”

“Is that so?”

Bolin nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “One day.”

“One day never.”

“One. Day.”

Mako rolled his eyes, as Bolin slung his arm around him as they walked in the direction of the centre of the town.

They still had a lot of work to do.

* * *

Mako and Bolin were exhausted. It had been a long day of traipsing around the Caldera, with little success. After four days, Mako and Bolin had gone through their list, and the civil servants came back to them and said their own investigations showed that there were no missing Naoki’s in the Capital City, but they might have more luck elsewhere in the Fire Nation.

Mako and Bolin returned to their small rented hotel room and sighed and flopped onto the bed.

“What a busy past few days,” Bolin said, and Mako weakly nodded.

Asking about Naoki’s was draining, and they weren’t getting anywhere.

Bolin pulled out the container of noodles they had purchased and inhaled down noodles. He came over and nudged Mako to eat his carton, and Mako began to pick through the noodles.

“So, it doesn’t appear there’s any relevant Naoki’s in the capital,” Bolin said. “So it looks like we’re going to have to move elsewhere for the rest. At least we’ll see the rest of the Fire Nation, you know?”

Mako nodded, not really responding, and continued to look down at his noodles. He wasn’t really in the mood to talk further, and any enthusiasm for the trip he had at the beginning had long dissipated. 

“I just wonder if she had a big family like Dad did, or—”

“We might not find her! We might find nothing about her, Bolin.” He snapped, and he regretted his tone immensely, but the anger and frustration seeped within him.

Bolin nodded, but set down his noodles which meant that he was looking serious for once. “I know, but I want to. A lot.”

Mako nodded. “So do I,” Mako said, wondering how to complete the sentence.

“It’s just that- well, I don’t really remember our parents. Not really,” Bolin said, and those words chilled Mako to his core, “but do you?” Bolin asked his brother.

Mako didn’t know how to answer that question. It made sense. Mako was eight, and though it was only two years, it would make a difference. “A bit,” he said, truthfully, “but why does it matter?”

Bolin raised his eyebrow. “Because they’re our Mom and Dad? I can remember minor things, like Dad helping me with earth bending, or Mom making me feel warm and safe, but I don’t really remember their faces.” Bolin confessed and twitched. “I was so happy those years ago when Grandma gave us that photo of us all, because I. Well. You know. It helped.” Bolin said.

Mako looked up and nodded. “That’s… I get it.” He admitted, clamming up. 

Bolin looked at him. “So what do you remember?”

“I don’t know… bits and pieces, like you?”

Bolin shook his head. “No like… do you remember that book? The green one? I’m not sure I even remember the contents, I think it was a book of fables, I just remember it being read to us at night by Mom and Dad.”

Mako could remember the book. “I think so.”

“Do you remember what happened to that book?”

Mako shrugged. “Not sure. Look, Bolin, I don’t see why we have to talk about this now.”

“Because we’re looking for our Mom’s family and I can barely remember her,” Bolin said, hands clenching as he looked at Mako with a face that could be considered imploring.

“I know. But I’m tired.”

“The morning, then?” Bolin asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Mako said shortly. 

Bolin's face fell, the hopeful smile gone. “Mako, I get that it’s not great to talk about,” Bolin began, “but, I-“

“Bolin, can we stop? I don’t want to talk about this!” Mako said and stood up from the bed and moved to the window. He didn’t cast a glance his brother’s way, instead training his eyes on the limited view he had at night and looked out.

“We _never_ talk about this,” Bolin said as he came to his side. “I just- I get that you were there when they were… killed, and I wasn’t, and that’s… hard, but sometimes I feel that us not really talking about it locks me out of the loop with our parents.”

Mako’s twisted his hands on himself, glancing up at Bolin’s face. It was written all over his brother’s face that he was sad about this. “What is there to talk about though? I didn’t know them for very long, either.” Mako asked.

“Our feelings?” Bolin offered hopefully, before settling down. “It’s just… since we started to talk about looking for Mom’s family, Opal and I discussed it a lot, y’know, our childhood. It felt… good to discuss it with her.”

“But we already know what happened,” Mako protested, “she wasn’t there, and she’s your girlfriend, she deserves to understand.”

Bolin looked fairly agitated, which was a unique thing for his brother. “Stop making excuses!” Bolin exclaimed, then looked apologetic. “I want to talk about it, and you’re just avoiding me.” Mako ignored Bolin for the most part. “Oh, and I doubt that you told your ex-girlfriends because they ‘deserved to know.’”

Mako glared at Bolin. “What? I told them about our parents.” Their voices were getting slightly raised now, and things were getting heated. He’d told Korra about his parents being cut down by a firebender, he’d mentioned to Asami about his scarf, and Korra and himself had managed to discuss a few minor details during the time they dated.

“Did they know the full story?”

“Because there isn’t a full story?” Mako protested. His childhood wasn’t a novel with a beginning with an ending. “It’s our past, it's not a mover.”

“I don’t mean full story like that—- ahh, I’m just saying, if Korra and Asami didn’t know—“

“Why are you bringing up Korra and Asami all of a sudden! We sorted things out a while ago and they’re together now and—“

“—It’s nothing to do with your actual relationship with them, it’s about your inability to open up with anyone! Including me, your own brother!” Bolin said, his voice now a booming shout.

Mako just rolled his eyes, feeling agitated and angry. “We don’t need to tell each other biographies of our lives. We _lived_ it. What else is there to talk about?”

“And I still think there’s so much you hid from me,” Bolin said, lowering his voice to match Mako’s volume.

Mako internally flinched at his brother’s words. What did he want to find out? The smell of burning flesh when he saw his parents get murdered? How he’d smuggled illicit substances in his pockets before Bolin was old enough to get involved? How he hated the sight of his bending for ages after the day his parents died?

What did Bolin even want? A summary of all the things he missed out? Mako couldn't provide that.

He glared at his brother and put his shoes back on. “I’m going out.”

“What? Can’t we talk?” Bolin said, and Mako ignored him, focusing on tying his shoes. Mako then walked past the bed, and then left the room, Bolin muttering under his breath.

A part of him hated his brother for trying to bring it all out in the open. Mako had always done a good job of discussing the issue when necessary and when provoked; he didn’t need to sit around and discuss it for fun.

And yet, a part of him wonders if what Bolin said was right, that he didn't open up with his brother enough, but he wondered what he could possibly say. How he could describe the past memories that were only becoming hazier. How on Earth would he be able to quantify feelings to his brother that Mako was sure even he didn’t understand.

These thoughts dwelled in his head as he walked into the cool, breezy night, alone.

* * *

_It was a beautiful, calm evening. A peaceful one. It had been like any other trip to pick up Bolin from his earthbending class, until it wasn’t._

_Mako stood there, stunned, as he stood near his parents._

_The odour of burning flesh hung in the air, and Mako’s stomach rolled._

_It had all happened so fast. They were walking down a mall side street, and then there was a voice from an alleyway, his father attempted to bend, but he fell to his ground. He remembered his mother pushed him out the way as another arc of fire flew up in the air. All Mako really saw of the attack was a flash of a fire-bended dagger and then a scream, but it didn’t last long._

_Silence. Blood. His parents were still, unmoving, his mother’s eyes were closed, but his father’s seemed to stare straight through him._

_The attacker had quickly taken his father’s wallet and watch, and his mother’s necklace. He had turned towards Mako, flame dagger in hand, and his amber eyes scanned Mako._

_No matter how hard Mako tried, he could never picture the attacker’s face, it was cast in shadow, but Mako always remembered the eyes._

_He’d instinctively backed away, hitting the alley and pressed himself up against the wall in fear. The firebender considered him for a moment. The possibility that the murderer had enough standards to not kill a child, but was happy to brutally murder his parents in front of him always galled Mako. The firebender didn’t bother advancing on him, and ran off into the dark alley._

_Mako wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he eventually moved from staring at his parents. It felt like hours; common sense told him it was probably only a minute._

_He moved his feet. Before he left to find- someone, anyone to help- he realised his father’s scarf had fallen off in the struggle._

_Mako picked it up and wrapped it around himself. It smelt like his father, and it helped him ignore the scent of burning flesh hanging in the air, before he eventually staggered away to find help._

_It had been such a beautiful evening._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented last chapter! I really appreciate it!

Mako returned home the next morning, somewhat reluctantly, as he hesitated outside the hotel door. He knew he should apologise to Bolin for storming out and leaving him, but he wasn’t really sure what he was going to say.

Bolin stirred as he unlocked the door to their room, before sitting up as Mako entered their room. “Were you out all night?” He murmured sleepily.

“I slept outside,” Mako stated. Bolin grimaced, but it wasn’t as if it was unusual for them. He’d found a park that was sheltered, and it was as warm as it was the summer, and he’d nodded off for the night, and had awoken to bird song. It was quite peaceful, though Mako was longing for a shower.

“Hey, idiot, don’t do that again. Run away in a foreign country to sleep on the streets. It’s dumb.”

“Sorry,” Mako said shortly. He felt embarrassed now. He glanced to the telephone cord next to Bolin. “Did you make a call?” Mako asked.

“Yeah, spoke to Opal.” He held his hands up, a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll pay for the international charge downstairs, don’t worry,” he said.

There’s a glum realisation that Mako had made Bolin run towards Opal’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” Bolin said, and Mako was bewildered at Bolin’s admission. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have... pushed,” Bolin said.

Mako shrugged. “It’s ok,” and part of Mako wanted to say he was sorry too, but the apology never left his lips. So he tossed Bolin the paper bag. “I brought breakfast.”

Bolin grinned, and looked at the dumplings Mako had purchased. “Thanks bro,” Bolin said.

They ate in relative silence, and it wasn’t a particularly comfortable one; there was still a lot unsaid. Mako tried to ignore that the conversation of the previous night ever happened— it wasn’t one that needed to be dragged up again.

Mako showered, and they packed their bags and moved ready to go to take the train to go the rest of the country, to look for the rest of the Naoki’s.

Bolin hovered by the door of the hotel room as they packed up, as he then placed his hand on Mako’s shoulder. “Mako,” he said, “but if you ever want to talk…”

“I know,” Mako said, and it was truthful because Bolin was always there, he was the only constant he ever really had throughout his entire life. But he could tell Bolin was trying to say he still wanted to talk. And perhaps Mako should, but he didn’t want to. The past was still long dead.

He brushed off Bolin’s hand and evaded the thoughts and ignored Bolin’s lengthy sigh.

* * *

They left that morning to go to the Caldera City station, so they could visit the other local police stations and follow up on the leads there. They still had work to do, and Mako wouldn’t allow himself to get bogged down further with Bolin’s words. They were here to find information, to search for their mother’s family. Anything else was a distraction.

The civil servants seemed surprised that they were turning down any further help out of the capital, but the pair assured them that they simply didn’t need them anymore.

The Fire Nation outside the capital was completely different. The land looked unfamiliar to what had come before, with flatter lands, full of rice fields and rolling hills of greenery. It wasn’t like the enormous expanse of the Earth Kingdom, full of scrubland and grass plains, the foliage here was thicker and denser. It made travelling through the Fire Nation more interesting when their investigations found nothing.

The days dragged on, and any Naoki’s turned up fruitless results. One would be a nurse, whose family had turned them away. Another, a recluse, and had no desire to speak to Bolin and Mako. The list of potential Naoki’s was getting shorter, and Mako didn’t deny that he thought this search was getting more and more fruitless.

They had not found a family missing a Naoki for over twenty years. No-one was hoping for a daughter or sister to come home, yet. They coveted the remaining police stations as well, and these too turned up little information.

Luck had guided them to their father’s family, but luck wasn’t on their side here it seemed. His mother’s past still evaded him, and maybe they weren’t meant to find out.

He and Bolin didn’t speak of the night they argued, but Mako could tell something was different now. Their travels were mostly in silence. Bolin would often comment on the rocks, the trees, the buildings, the food, but it wasn’t the same. Bolin opened his mouth to speak sometimes, a more serious look on his face, but then he'd look to Mako, and never actually said anything.

A pretty woman Mako’s age sat near them on the train, and caught his eye and smiled at him, before she returned to her book. Bolin had also noticed her, but said nothing. Mako was happy Bolin wasn’t trying to set him up with her, but Bolin being so quiet about it was far worse. And Mako knew that he had done this, but it was easier said than done to fix these sorts of things. That was Bolin’s speciality, not his.

Their third day of train travelling had proved fruitless. Even Bolin’s enthusiasm had waned, and they were both tired now. The small Fire Nation town, Fumiji, was fairly busy during the day but was now quite dead as people avoided work. 

“We should find somewhere to sleep,” Mako said, as the sun started to set and so looked down the street at the hotels with various flickering signs saying Rooms Available.

Bolin nodded, and they sauntered off down the street to find somewhere to sleep.

They walked into the first cheap-looking motel they could find in the centre of the city. Bolin beamed at the hotelier at the front desk; an middle-aged, black-haired man, his beard styled in the traditional fire-nation style that Zuko wore.

“Hi, a room with two singles, please,” Bolin said.

“Hm,” the man said, looking Bolin up and down, “we don’t get many earth citizens around these parts,” he commented, as the town of Fumiji was a small industrial one, Mako could gather.

Mako doesn’t like the man’s tone at all, not the way his eyes seemed to hold more than just mere curiosity, but Bolin doesn’t seem to register, as usual. “Oh, well, my brother and I are on a family trip, so we have our reasons,” Bolin said cheerily. 

The man glanced at Mako, then hovered his eyes back to Bolin, and leant back to face them both with a sneer; “Two dirty mixed mutts, no doubt. No service.”

Perhaps it’s a combination at how terrible Mako has felt throughout the day, how his nerves were frayed and he was on a knife-edge of, how he hated how Bolin’s face just _fell_ , but Mako could feel something inside himself snap and he lunged forward to pull the man closer to him from across the reception desk, who was startled by his forceful reaction.

“Do you want to rethink your attitude?” He snapped, and the hotel owner whimpered slightly. Bolin grabbed his arms and tugged hard; Mako’s claw-like grip wouldn’t release easily from the man’s shirt. He could hear Bolin telling him to _let go, it isn’t worth it,_ but he was so blind with fury at the moment it took a while for theh words to truly register.

After a short struggle of Bolin pulling at his arms, Mako released the man. Mako could see that he had singed his shirt, but he didn’t have time to dwell on his actions— Bolin was shoving him out of the door, apologising to the man.

 _Apologising_. Typical Bolin.

Mako pulled his bag higher onto his back and stormed down the street without saying a word, Bolin trailing after him.

“Hey, Mako,” Bolin said, running to keep up with his determined strides, “um, Mako, calm down.” 

“Calm down!?” He snapped back.

Bolin just raised his hands up and said, “you’re a little on edge.”

Mako said nothing, but they reached a small park away from the high-street. It was dusk and the streets were empty, so Mako let out a burst of flame. Bolin just stepped back and watched him as he threw every single flame into the sky.

Mako wasn’t even that angry at the desk clerk— though Republic City was fairly diverse, they had never been immune to that kind of talk on the streets. People found ways to look down on others, and being mixed was one of them. Instead, he was frustrated at how everything had been playing out so far, and how miserable he felt. Days of boiling tension and uncomfortableness, frayed nerves and no leads. 

Mako wanted to go home and forget this whole endeavour. The entire thing was pointless. His mother would remain an enigma.

He would’ve felt better if he was currently burning something physical, but all he had was the park air itself unless he wanted to draw the ire of public officials. He’d already scorched the grass, but he didn’t think that was a highly unusual thing to happen in a city full of firebenders. He hoped.

“I hate this country,” he stated, before he sat down. Mako sat down finally, the tension dissipating as he stretched onto the grass, watching the sparks of embers died as he calmed down. He now felt self-conscious of his self-imposed mini-meltdown, but he felt slightly better. 

“Do you? Or are you just kinda angry?”

Mako sighed, and looked away. He supposed he didn’t hate it. He barely knew that place. He was just tired and exasperated and sick of feeling alienated from a country he was supposed to feel kinship with.

Bolin sat down on the grass beside him and looked curiously at him, before opening his mouth, “so…”

Mako sighed, “So,” he said, and they relaxed into the peaceful air of the park. The sun had completely set now and it was getting darker, but Mako didn’t have the energy to care much.

Bolin pointed towards a constellation — the polar bear dog, wasn’t it? If you followed it, it took you south. “Hey, it’s cool that the stars we see here, all the way in the Fire Nation, are the same as what we see in Republic City,” Bolin said.

Mako sighed. “Is this you trying to be deep?” He asked.

“Hey, I’m someone who naturally has a lot of depth,” Bolin said, and they both knew it wasn’t true as Mako and Bolin grinned. “But we looked at the stars a lot when we were younger. It’s kinda nice to do it again.”

Mako shifted, letting the silence speak between them. “Bolin, I’m sorry for that night we argued,” He said. “I shouldn’t have left.”

Bolin smiled. “It’s ok. I’ve accepted your many faults.”

“I’ve accepted yours, too.” Mako said, a smile creeping onto his face. It was one of Bolin’s many talents. He could bring out the humour in a situation when necessary, even if Mako didn’t want it. Mako looked to the park. “Looks like we’re sleeping outside.” Again. He hoped this would not become a habit for himself.

“Hm, for old time’s sake. At least it’s not like the time in the trash in Ba Sing Se,” Bolin said, reminding themselves of the time they had when they first met their father’s family.

“Don’t remind me,” Mako said, and laid down on the grass.

They could hear the sound of crickets chirping softly, filling the fairly empty silence as they laid down looking at the stars. “Hey,” Bolin said, “I don’t remember much of our parents, but I do remember our first night on the street. It was cold — it was a starry night, pretty, but no cloud cover — and I asked you to warm us up, and we slept under the night sky for the first time,” Bolin said. “I can’t forget something like that, but sometimes I think I might fill in the blanks the rest of time.”

Mako stilled, and he can remember that night slightly. “I didn’t want to light that fire,” Mako admitted, before he could stop himself, “but you were cold.”

“Why not?” Bolin asked.

There was a pause, and he evaded Bolin’s eyes. Bolin waited patiently for him to speak, so he sighed and then relented. “Because… I hadn’t bent since our parents died.”

Bolin appeared to understand and sat up straighter, before he took Mako’s hands in his, gripping them tight. “Oh. Well, I was never afraid of you. Ever. Like, you were the coolest brother in the world!” It made Mako smile slightly, to know that Bolin didn’t hold the fear that Mako had of firebending. “You _always_ protected me,” Bolin continued, smiling and patting Mako on the shoulder, “you always did a lot for me,” he repeated.

Mako shrugged at the last statement. “I was your big brother, I had to.”

“Most big brothers don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I suppose,” Mako said. Bolin was speaking the obvious here. Most kids had parents. They didn’t, so it was left to him. “Well, it was okay.”

Bolin stared at him, before asking quietly; “was it?”

 _Was it?_ Well it was never _really_ okay, but Mako had to just deal with the hand life had given them. He _had_ to. He had a younger brother and they no longer had any parents. He couldn’t just dwell on it, he had to protect Bolin. He’d had to bury the fear long ago.

He wondered if those parts of himself he’d buried were the part of himself that allowed him to speak about these things, the tumultuous feelings and distance he felt from the entire event. He didn’t have the energy to think about it when there were always more important matters to worry about. They were on the streets. He couldn’t concern himself with these things. Ignoring it was the most effective solution.

Bolin leaned over and hugged him tightly. “Hey, Mako, I…” he said, and he was looking at Mako with concern on his face. Mako pressed one of his hands to his cheek and could feel that his cheek was wet. Well, damn, he was crying now.

“Dammit, Bolin…” Mako muttered, “you have a way with these things.” He considered the last time he cried. Maybe when he was eight and he attended the pauper’s funeral for his parents. _Surely_ he had to have cried since then, though he was turning up a blank.

“I try,” Bolin said, then seemed to grow confused, thinking about his own answer. Bolin said no more to Mako and continued to hold him before he whispered, “I miss them.”

He missed them too. Mako shifted, and held his hand up to his face and curled up more, letting out a few choked sobs out but Bolin didn’t let go. He would have felt embarrassed at any other time, but now he didn’t particularly care.

Amongst the starry sky in a small town in the Fire Nation, Mako acknowledged that he had never been okay.

* * *

They slept outside that night. Firebenders generally ran hotter than other people, so Mako rarely had to worry about being cold— so they slept wrapped around each other like they were small kids again.

Bolin stood up and stretched in the morning, Mako winced at the cracking sound from his back. “Some things are best left in the past.”

“I can’t say I disagree.”

The two brothers eventually moved to the train station and boarded the next train to Chisanahi.

Mako looked over to Bolin as they sat on the seats of the train, and he sighed as he thought of all that had happened the night before. “I remember the green book of fables,” he said, and Bolin perked up to listen in on the story, as Mako smiled. “I remember one time you were just beginning to earthbend, so you knocked over a table, so you spilled water on the book. You were so distraught, but it was mostly okay because it only got the cover. Mom and Dad still had to spend ages reassuring you.”

“Really? I can’t believe that _I_ ruined the book,” Bolin pouted, and then threw his arm over his eyes. “And I have such fond memories!”

“Like I said, you didn’t ruin it, I think it was mostly fine once Mom dried it out. I remember because we stayed awake that night whilst you were being a baby,” he said.

Bolin lightly punched him, “I can’t believe you, I was probably just upset! I was a passionate child and always fond of stories,” Bolin said, and Mako smiled. 

There was a lot more that doubtless demanded to be said, about what really happened that night their parents were murdered and their time on the streets, and Mako wasn’t looking forward to it.

But for now, he could let Bolin in on some moments. There were good memories, too.

* * *

The town of Zikun was unremarkable.

“Come experience the hot springs of Zikun.” Mako read the small sign on the station. It appeared to be a small, crumbling port city,

“Hot springs?” Bolin asked, then his face lit up.

“They sound good. We should see about the Naoki’s first, I guess then we can take a break.”

Chisanahi had drawn up nothing, so they'd move onto Zikun the following morning. They didn't have many more addresses to go through, and soon they'd have nowhere to go but back home. Resignation was what Mako felt most currently.

They looked at their list of Naoki’s. They asked the police station again, who confirmed a lack of Naomi’s reported missing, before they knocked on a door. Their Naoki was still alive and well, just backpacking in the Earth Kingdom as part of a travelling band. 

They knocked on their second address. Mako thought it looked like a school, and they could see children playing in the playground behind the building. But the wall opening was adorned by iron gates were adorned the wall opening with the words orphanage, but had a sign scrubbed out, and replaced with the words ‘children’s home’. He grimaced as he thought of the orphanages he and Bolin briefly entered, but always fled. This orphanage was shrouded in vines and was an older house, and didn’t mimic the large, cold warehouses that loomed over Mako and Bolin’s childhoods.

“It’s nice,” Bolin said, looking at it. “Nicer than the ones back in Republic City, at least,” he said, echoing Mako’s thoughts.

“Yeah,” Mako agreed, as they hesitated slightly at entering further. He placed his hands onto the gate, before he turned to Bolin, and he opened his mouth, before he didn’t say anything.

“What, Mako?” Bolin asked, curiously.

“Do you ever think we made a mistake?”

“Huh?”

“With the orphanage back home,” Mako said. “I wonder if we should have stayed.”

“And risk being separated in that horrible place? No?” Bolin said quizicaly.

Mako tightened his grip on the gate. “It would have been safer, though. I should—“

“Mako, I didn’t want to stay there!”

“You were six, of course you didn’t.”

“And you were _eight_ ,” Bolin pointed out. Mako didn’t have much to say to that. Bolin placed his hands on Mako’s shoulder. “I don’t have any regrets about how we lived.”

“I try not to,” Mako said. “Sometimes that’s hard.”

“I know. But we were both kids, neither of us really knew what we were doing,” Bolin said, before he hugged Mako. “You don’t have to shoulder the past alone, you know. Cut yourself some slack, bro. Please.”

He smiled and nodded, before prying Bolin’s fingers off him. “We should probably investigate.”

“Yes, we only have so much time!” Bolin said cheerily, giving a Mako a mock salute. Mako pushed through the gate, before Bolin ran up and grabbed him from behind. “Thanks, you know. For opening up. I didn’t know you had…. issues, about the orphanage.”

“It’s… okay,” Mako said. “I guess being here just brought it back,” he said. Bolin gave him another squeeze, before he let go of Mako again.

They walked to the entrance and rang the doorbell where a bored receptionist answered.

“Hey, my name’s Bolin, we’re looking into a Naoki who lived here once?” he asked, though he wasn’t as upbeat as he once had.

The woman snorted. “We’ve got two in this building right now.”

“Right, but we want to trace a Naoki who lived here and was born on a certain date,” Bolin said, thrusting some documents towards the woman.

The receptionist took the slip of paper and sighed. “Fine, follow me.” She grumbled. She stood up and sighed, and beckoned them to follow her round the corner from “Well, I haven’t got all day,” she snapped. The two followed her into the door behind the reception, where desks and filing cabinets lay. She opened a small, dusted room with more filing cabinets. She walked them over to a cabinet, third from the side. 

The receptionist shook her head. “She might be in here, these contain pictures we took when they left elementary school. Find her in these, I guess.”

“So um… nice orphanage,” Bolin said. 

“The local council have found that the word orphanage had very negative connotations attached to it. We’re a children’s home now,” the receptionist said.

Mako looked at her. “So, do people come here often? Looking for relatives and such?”

“Sometimes. There’s not a lot we can do for them apart from show them the records. Kids who end up here often don’t have families or records, so tracing people is hard.”

Mako and Bolin sighed collectively. They were so close to losing their rag with thir lack of progress.

The woman smiled. “Good luck. Shout if you need anything,” she said, and left them in the office.

“We’ll just have to find the right year.” Mako said.

The search was tiresome and a bore, but it aided them that the files seemed to be kept in a reasonable order. They soon found a folder with the correct label, dusty and worn, and Mako lifted the page to see the class of 44, and in black and white and worn, was his mother’s face.

The picture quality was terrible; Mako could hardly imagine it being good in those days, but their mother was there, in amongst the throng of thirty students. 

“Bolin,” he said simply, and his brother came bartering over and glanced over the photograph

“She’s here,” Bolin said. Mako pulled out the folded photograph from his pocket to compare; his mother was far younger, but they recognised her clearly, with loose hair and a pointed face.

He looked like her. A younger version of the woman from their family photo stared back at them. She was standing with the group of classmates, and she was smiling shyly at the camera, tugging on her sleeve.

Mako soon pulls out a file and studied it, flicking through the file and glancing at the names, and Naoki was there.

Naoki had been found.

‘Born 6/6/28, to an unknown mother who died 6/6/28.’ Fresher, newer ink beside this record stated that she left their care around sixteen, and that was the end of it.

He moved to where the receptionist was sat, flicking through the pages of a magazine. “Would you know anything about this Naoki?”

The receptionist blinked and sighed, looking at them exasperated. “I’m the same age as you.”

“Well, find someone older,” Mako offered, impatient, and the receptionist shrugged and moved away. Bolin cocked his head over at Mako confused, as Mako waved him over.

“It’s here, Bolin, a name, but it doesn’t say much else.”

Bolin peered at it, his face lit up. “It’s her!” he said, snatching the photo and grinning wildly, before turning back to Mako and lifting him off the ground. He was clearly elated, and Mako wished he felt like he, but he only felt slightly numb. Everything they had worked for, was here, in front of them, but not quite yet.

The receptionist came round, followed by an elderly, grey-whiskered man coming over to them, his beard also in the traditional fire nation style, though his smile appeared much more friendly. Bolin dropped Mako as the man looked at them, his eyes going wide. “Aren’t you friends with the Avatar?”

“Well, Yes—”

“I knew it,” he said, and turned to the receptionist. “Damn it, Emi, go get them a pot of tea,” he said, as the receptionist looked embarrassed and then hurried away.

Bolin looked a bit sheepish. “We don’t need—“

“A pot of tea is common courtesy. And I wish he would read current affairs and not just the gossip columns, tsh. I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Lee Sun, and I’ve been the director of these children’s home for nearly forty years now. Now, Emi said you were here about a Naoki?”

“Yeah, we’re her sons and we believe this is our mother, in this photo.”

Lee looked at the photograph, and then the record and nodded. “That Naoki. I’m sorry, we don’t know anymore about her family. We found the mother heavily pregnant, and she wouldn’t tell us her name, and then she died in childbirth. So many children have entered this house and left, but you can’t forget an event like that. The mother was young, no older than eighteen, if that. The police put her picture in the paper, but no-one ever came forward and said that was their daughter.”

Mako swallowed the swelling disappointment down, but he pressed on, “and Naoki?”

“I have had many children pass through here over the years, but I don’t remember her being any trouble.” Lee looked over them and seemed to understand their disappointment. “I’m sorry. I can show you her mother’s grave if you like.”

The two duly nodded and followed Lee Sun out of the door.

* * *

It was a small grave marker- they didn’t expect much else. It was set away from the rest of the family plots, with a few other smaller stone monuments for those who were buried solo.

Lee Sun coughed. “I’ll leave you two here. Come back to the centre later if there’s anything else I can help you with.”

They thanked him as he departed and turned back to the small grave.

‘Sen’

‘?-128AG’

Bolin was quiet, and Mako watched as he fell to his knees. Mako crouched beside him.

Bolin held his head in his hands. “Mom was an orphan just like us.”

It made sense. They knew where their father had come from Ba Sing Se, but never their mother. Mako always feared that like many things he had forgotten this part of his mother’s life, if she ever said where she came from. But there was nothing to go back to. Just an unknown origin and a children’s home.

Mako considered who his grandmother was, and why she had turned up alone in a town where no-one seemed to know her, pregnant and alone, and then die giving birth. She must have been running away from someone, but who?

Mako wondered if they would ever get an answer to that question. Like his own parents murders, he doubted it.

He realised Bolin was crying so he shifted his weight to kneel bedside him. “I’m sorry,” he said defeated, “we haven’t found anyone, really.”

Bolin shrugged. “It’s... okay.” He said, but his lip wobbled. “This is still something.”

Mako just let him cry as he looked back to the small stone monument. He expected himself to feel more upset at this revelation, or more distraught. Instead, he could only feel resigned. It was an answer to the mystery of what they had been searching for, but not the one they were hoping for. Their finding didn’t really open up any more questions, the revelation only provided an unsatisfactory resolution.

All he could do was sit and stare at the grave. He could see the dead flowers placed just off the side of the slab commemorating the woman’s name, and he wished they had come prepared to replace the wilting flowers. He blinked again and leant forward, and picked up the brown stems. There were remnants of burnt incense as well, and it also looked remarkably well kept for a grave that never had any family.

“Bolin, someone is looking after the grave.”

Bolin blinked as he peered at the grave and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “A groundsman?”

“Maybe,” Mako said. Bolin’s point was obvious. But he could see other graves nearby that weren’t quite as neatly kept or had flowers. Someone had been here purposefully.

Mako stood up. “I want to ask about it.”

Bolin nodded and trailed after him as they moved to the front of the cemetery where a groundsman was working.

They described the grave to him. He raised his eyebrow. “The unknown girl? I’ve worked here for years and a lady comes by and does the grave every month; her name is Daizu. I think she’s just trying to be nice since no one else visits,” he said, glancing at the pair and looking apologetic at that statement.

Mako and Bolin nodded and looked to the other. Bolin spoke up; “It’d be nice to thank her for taking care of the grave.”

The groundsman nodded and took out a piece of paper and scribbled an address on it. Left at the centre, right, then straight ahead, take another right and then a final left. They wandered around for a bit, totally lost, before eventually stumbling to a small two-story house terraced between many others.

Mako checked the address to the door and sighed, before knocking on the door.

An elderly woman opened the door; one who was shorter and with large round glasses who squinted at Mako and Bolin. “Yes?”

“Uh, Daizu?" Bolin asked.

“Yes? Look, I don’t want a conservatory.”

Mako smiled weakly. “No, we’re not here about conservatories.”

“Windows?”

“No!” Mako said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, the grave for Sen. Have you been taking care of it?”

“Yes,” she said, glancing at them, squinting, then tipping her head. “Are you Naoki’s family?”

Mako nodded. “Did you know her?”

“Yes,” she said, then breathed out. “After all these years,” she said, and her eyes flickered up to them both, a quiet realisation dawning on her. “Is she gone?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Mako said as quickly as possible.

Daizu nodded and swallowed, hand curling on the door frame as she processed the information. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

They accepted, of course, as they followed the old woman into her home. It was a tiny house; with sloping ceilings and cramped decor. They were seated around a small table, and Mako glanced over to the pictures around the house of a family with her children.

They had told Daizu what happened. It was just like that time when they broke the news to their grandmother and family. It wasn’t any easier. Daizu looked disappointed.

Daizu brought the tea over to them. “I feared the worst,” she said, and handed them both cups. “We used to write letters to each other, sometimes. But then one year I never got a reply, and I sent a few, until all the letters were returned to sender. I sent a letter to the embassy in Republic City asking for help, but I heard nothing back. I wished that I would hear from her again, but I never did,” Daizu said, before she wiped her eye. “I hoped she’d just moved on with her life, but it never felt right,” she said.

Mako nodded, before Daizu help up her hand and hobbled over to her living room, and then came back with a photograph.

It was the same photo that their father’s family had received in Ba Sing Se. Mako pulled out their framed photograph from his sack, and she smiled as she compared the two.

It relieved Mako that they had found their mother’s equivalent to their family. Their father had sent the same portrait to his family, and this was their mother’s.

Bolin looked up at her. “So you knew her well?”

“Well, I think when she was around twelve they told her who her mother was. She used to go to the grave sometimes after that and bumped into me. We started to chat, and I’d invite her round. I think she just liked somewhere that wasn’t full of screaming kids, she was a quiet girl herself. It became a routine for her to drop once or twice every week for some tea. I considered her an excellent friend, despite our age difference.”

Mako glanced at her. “You’ve paid your respects at the grave for years. Why?”

Daizu just shrugged. “Because dear, I wanted someone to remember her, I remember reading that she died with no family around her, I thought that was so sad. Someone out there knew who she was, and I always hoped that they’d come to claim her. I called her Lily, Sen is just a common name they throw out, but I used to place fire lilies there.”

Mako nodded, digesting the information provided to him. “What-what was Mom-Naoki- like?”

“Quite reserved, you know. Kept her head down and worked at school. She had a beautiful voice though, she was wonderful in the plays.” Daizu said. “I’m not surprised she left Zikun. There isn’t much for anyone here.”

“How come?”

“Oh, I remember vaguely what it used to be like. It was one of the first places in the Fire Nation to have a modern factory. A grand industry town. People from all over the country travelled here to work. Industry was booming. But it was all for the war, so this town met its fate when the world found peace. Not that it’s a bad thing, of course,” Daizu added, sipping her tea. “Little happens here now. Tourists come for the springs, which has helped rejuvenate the town, but it’s not the same.” She rested her chin on her palm. “So of course Naoki left for the capital, like many others. Can’t stand the idea myself, it’s far too big. I’m staying where I was born.” She said, furrowing her brows and slapping her hand lightly on the table. “But only a week later, she sent me a letter saying she was emigrating. We kept in touch, after that.”

Daizu poured them more tea, then peered at him and took his face in her palms. “You really look so much like her.”

Mako smiled slightly. Bolin looked close to crying again. 

Daizu clapped her hands together and gasped. “I do have one picture of her, silly me,” she said, as she moved to the other room, and pulled out a picture, and handed it to them both. It was their mother, maybe around sixteen or seventeen, dressed in red clothes, lunging strong, and arcing fire into the air across her body. The fire itself was a white smear across the frame, so it concealed their mother’s face. Photography of firebending had evidently improved in the intervening decades.

“She was such a beautiful bender,” Daizu said. “This is a dance recital she took part in. A firebending dance is traditional in the Fire Nation, I’m not sure if you practise it in Republic City.”

Mako nodded, but he held up the photograph for himself. He wanted to say that he had never learnt to bend like this, he couldn’t learn the more artistic side of it, but the thoughts transformed in his mind.

A memory, his mother guiding his hands together, forming an arcing flame from one hand to the other. He must have only been young.

_“Slower, Mako,” she said. “Take your time,” she drew her hands together, and then the flames drew from her fingers. He copied, but the flames didn’t happen like hers. He probably sulked._

_She grasped his hands, his small in hers, her smile warm, as she guided him through the movements. A small flame, make it bright, hands together— an arc, and then tiny little sparks would fly._

_His face lit up in glee when he created the flame with his mother’s help._

_“Perfect,” Naoki said, face beaming, as she ruffled his hair. “So beautiful, Mako,” she said._

Mako placed the photograph on the table before he swallowed. Bolin rubbed his shoulder, and Mako blinked back the tear in his eye. He wanted to hold himself together for now, though Bolin was wiping his eyes and sniffing all the time.

“So you boys need to tell me about yourselves,” Daizu said, thankfully breaking the silence.

Bolin clasped his hands together, ready to take charge. “Okay, so where do we start?”

It was an abridged version- Bolin skipped most things with the triple threat triads, and thankfully also condensed Mako’s love life to just becoming friends with the Avatar. Though Bolin described in significant detail about how amazingly lovely Opal was. 

Daizu looked like she was struggling to keep up.

“—And now we have a big spirit portal in the middle of Republic City! Anyway, since things have calmed down a bit, Korra and Asami are together now, Mako is still a cop, and I’m helping the Air Nation and Varrick with his inventions. And Opal is still amazing. And that’s what we’ve been doing.”

“That’s… a lot. I read in the paper about a Mako and Bolin helping the Avatar, but I never put two and two together from the pictures. I’m very happy that your life worked out well, despite everything,” she said. She breathed in. “I’m just…. happy that we’ve met, even if it’s bad news. I’ve loved meeting what Naoki was looking for,” Daizu added, as she looked at them both.

“And that was?” Bolin asked, thought Mako suspected the answer.

Daizu paused. “A family.”

Bolin breathed in and Mako looked away. There was a heavy silence.

Just as they did, they’d struggled to form a family. She’d created something with their father.

Mako and Bolin smiled gratefully. “I… thanks for caring for all these years. You... didn’t have to.”

Daizu nodded. “I know. But when I read about Lily all those years ago, I cared. And then Naoki came along and became part of my life. I now see Lily and Naoki as family in a strange way, and if my family had more money, maybe it could have been more formal. But, I just mean, it’s not all about blood is it?” 

And no, it wasn’t. Mako thought to Korra and Asami and the Air Nation and the Beifong’s that has touched their lives in some way. It was more than just the blood that ran through him, and though he loved his blood family, he knew they weren’t the only ones in his life right now.

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed, and Bolin nodded.

Daizu smiled, her eyes crinkling as she poured them another cup of tea. “Where are you boys staying tonight?”

“Oh, we’ll book into a hotel.” Bolin said, gratefully drinking from the cup.

“Nonsense! I’ll host you.” She said. “My children moved out decades ago, I have the room,” Daizu said.

Not that they would have declined, but the way Daizu acted, she wouldn’t accept a refusal of her invitation, anyway. “Thank you, Daizu.” Mako said.

They chatted more about Zikun, what their mother’s favourite pastries were (moon cakes), and what they wanted for their futures.

As she led them up to their room, she turned to Mako and handed him the photograph of his mother at the dance recital.

“Daizu — this is yours—” he protested.

“It’s now yours. I’ve had decades with it. You haven’t. Keep it,” Daizu said.

Mako smiled as he glanced once again at the photograph. “Thank you, Daizu.”

He sat down on his bed, as he looked at the photograph. The mental perception of his mother was still incomplete, but with the photograph in hand, it was painted a little clearer now.

Bolin sat down beside him, and then threw himself at him, enveloping Mako into a big hug.

“We _did_ find Mom,” Bolin said, voice quiet.

In the end, despite everything, they had.

* * *

It wasn’t what they were expecting.

Mako had both hoped for the best and feared the worst. He had found out something in between. It wasn’t the resolution they had sought after. He hadn’t been expecting to find out they had more in common with their childhoods than he realised, with them both being orphans with little family.

Still, their mother had the stable upbringing of a kinder orphanage, with guaranteed meals and a safe place to sleep.

But Mako had Bolin. He always had Bolin by his side. And that was something that Naoki had found with Daizu.

Mako made sure that the address of Daizu, folded in his pocket, was still safe. She had hosted them for two nights in the end, and they’d poured over the letters she’d sent Daizu (Mako apparently behaved as good as gold when he was a baby, and Bolin was a crier. Mako wasn't really sure why Bolin was shocked by the revelation he'd always been a little shit). They’d attended the famous spa, and purchased various bath salts and treatments for their friends back home. 

They'd taken the train back to Harbour City with some reluctance, but Mako had work. They promised to keep in touch, and Mako and Bolin would both try to write.

He sat on a bench by the docks, eating the same noodles they’d eaten on their first night here, though Bolin had disappeared to buy whatever tacky mementos he could find. He watched the ships come in, and Mako finished the carton, and then sighed.

They’d been in the Fire Nation for around two weeks. The entire trip had brought up things that he hadn’t really thought he’d have to think about. 

He stared at his hands for a moment, thinking back to the night his parents died. He shuddered before he drew his hands together. He focused, _if you made the fire hot, then drew them together_ — he created an arc, with little tiny sparks that fluttered down to the pier’s floor.

He considered the dying embers for a second, a slight smile on his face. He felt oddly relaxed. He doubted that he’d ever really just bent for fun since, well, his mother died.

“Hey, no firebending on the pier!” a worker snapped from the side of Mako, before he grumbled as he moved away. Mako sheepishly apologised as Bolin laughed in the background.

“Imagine if you got arrested on your last day in the Fire Nation. That would be a pretty funny way to end the trip, Mako. What would you tell Lin!?” Bolin said, a bag of souvenirs in hand as he held himself, laughing at the potential scenario. Mako grimaced and stuck his tongue out at Bolin. Bolin had been watching, because of course he had. Bolin sat next to him on the bench. “But that was cool though,” he said. “They were like baby fireworks!”

Mako rolled his eyes. It was nice to know that Bolin never had an issue with his bending, though Mako wondered why he ever thought he might have. That was never Bolin’s style, but acknowledging the truth was sometimes harder for the anxieties to overcome. That might be something he’d have to work on.

Bolin exhaled next to him, taking in the wide expanse of the ocean next to him. “What a trip,” Bolin said.

“It’s certainly been… a couple of weeks,” he observed lamely.

“We must come and see Daizu sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. We should. Too bad it’s far.”

Bolin shrugged. “That sort of thing doesn’t bother me.”

Mako smiled. “Of course it wouldn’t.”

They let a silence fall between them, and Mako wonders about what they had achieved. 

Bolin noticed his quietness. “You okay?”

“Of course,” he said, but Bolin only raised an eyebrow, questioning him further. “Like you said, it’s been a lot.”

“It has,” Bolin said, then threw an arm around him. “I don’t say it enough, but I love you, bro.”

Mako smiled, and he could only wish that he had a knack for these things. “I love you too,” he said. “I know… this trip, we didn’t really find what we wanted….”

“Yeah. It wasn’t what we hoped for. I’m still glad we came.”

“Yeah,” Mako said. Despite the disappointment, Mako felt like he could at least stop the wondering about the what-ifs, and lay some curiosity to rest.

They still didn’t really know his mother, or her life, that well, no matter the stories Daizu told, just like how they still didn’t really know his father, despite knowing his family. And they’d have to carry that with them, likely for the rest of their lives. But he still felt somewhat lighter, like something within him had eased.

It was a strange feeling. It wasn’t one that he was used to.

Mako realised it was contentment. He was sure it wouldn't last, but in this moment, he was happy that he came, and he was happy with what he’d discovered. And he was happy with what the future held for them both.

There were still parts of the past that Mako had still never discussed with Bolin, and he didn’t find much joy at the idea of one day doing so. But he could recognise now that eking out the past had its benefits.

He could get used to sharing it with Bolin.

Bolin smiled, and they looked towards the ship coming into rock; they would most likely board it soon to go back across the sea. “I’ll miss the Fire Nation. The weather’s warmer here. But it’ll be good to go back home,” he said, and then clasped his hands together, “and see Opal!”

“Yeah. Home,” Mako said. Republic City, full of crime, the forgotten and the needy, and also full of life and his future. The city had shaped him and it was undeniably his home.

Bolin looked over to him and nudged him. “Hey you know what we didn’t do?”

“What?”

“Get you a girlfriend!”

Mako sighed, then decided to just once humour him a little; “Maybe another time,” he said, and rolled his eyes.

Bolin’s face lit up as if Mako had just handed him a winning lottery ticket. “So, you’re accepting your need for an intervention?”

Mako shook his head, immediately regretting his decision to give in. “No, Bolin—“

“—You know, Korra and Asami would like to get involved, stop you fifth wheeling—”

“—Bolin, that’s even _worse_ , we’re not having this conversation—“

“— no way, you need help, you’re a disaster bro.”

Mako grumbled as the horn sounded as the boat docked and arriving passengers filed off. He guessed they’d be able to board soon.

Bolin cheerily looked at Mako and nudged his brother playfully. “We’ll discuss it later.”

Mako sighed, and looked back towards the harbour, and breathed deep. 

They had come far to come to get to this point, and Mako was glad to be going home, knowing more truths than what-ifs about his mother.

Bolin slung his free arm around Mako’s shoulders as they hung around to board the ship as they prepared to leave the Fire Nation behind. Bolin grinned at him. He thought of the Fire Nation, and then the photograph of his mother.

They were leaving the Fire Nation, but they'd also take part of it back home with them.

And the thought of the three worlds they were a part of finally meeting together caused Mako to smile back to Bolin.

Home may finally feel more like home now.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it!  
> So maybe this whole fic was written because I was inspired to write the opposite of whatever happened in book 3 where Mako and Bolin just walk into their missing family. I thought what if they tried really hard and found... little. Though I don't think I'll become a detective fiction writer, I just let the civil servants find the names pffft.
> 
> Maybe I also wrote this 15k fic so I could justify one scene where Mako cried.
> 
> It's nice to rest this fic that I've had since November 2017. It's pretty much had the same plot since inception, though I had to cut out some of the flashbacks as they just never worked. But I hoped you enjoyed it! I love kudos and comments, as always.
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr [here](https://wastetimeandtype.tumblr.com/), if you'd like.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading so far! Chapter 2 should be up within a week.
> 
> I've had this fic almost finished for a while, so I've decided to finally finish it and post it.
> 
> This is all headcanon. I also know that 'Fire Nation woman' might not mean that Naoki was from the Fire Nation, she could have just been of Fire Nation descent in Republic City. But I decided to take it literally as I wanted to write the Fire Nation, lol. I'm fully prepared that this fic could become complete bullshit with some canon comics in the future, but I also wonder if the creators even care haha.
> 
> Please tell me your thoughts so far! I think this fic has niche appeal, so let me know if you do like it! Constructive Crit is fine.


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